Tabitha in Moonlight (20 page)

Tabitha was coiling rope neatly on deck. ‘Yes—I'll go below and make some sandwiches, shall I?'

He followed her. ‘You make the tea, I'll see to the food.'

They had hot bacon sandwiches and great mugs of milky tea, sitting in the stern, side by side. The stars were out by now, and a
sliver of moon, and here and there lights twinkled along the shores of the lake. They had finished the sandwiches and had begun on a large wedge of cheese Marius had thoughtfully provided, when he spoke.

‘You're furious, aren't you, Tabby? I am too.' She gave him a look of surprise, although his face wasn't easy to see in the dusk. ‘I don't look angry, do I, but I believe that I am angrier than you. Our evening has been spoilt.'

‘I'm sorry you had to miss the dinner party,' Tabitha rejoined waspishly, and was furious when he laughed.

‘I'm happy as I am, Tabby, although you sound as though you're going to scratch out my eyes at any moment! As for the dinner party, we'll have one of our own to make up for it—just us two.'

She thought he was being conciliatory, and she was no child to be coaxed into good humour. ‘It's kind of you to suggest it,' she said stiffly, ‘but there's no need…' She stopped because her bottled-up feelings and temper and fright exploded inside her, so that the tears cascaded down her cheeks and all she could do was sob. She went on crying for some time, the feel of Marius's arm warm and comforting around her shoulders, but presently she whispered into his shoulder: ‘I'm sorry to have been such a fool—I've made you v—very wet.'

She sniffed and sat up and dried her eyes on the sleeve of the sweater she was wearing and he said in a kindly voice: ‘Here, have mine,' thrust a large handkerchief into her hands and when she had used it, asked: ‘Feel better now?'

She nodded into the dark, thankful that he couldn't see her sodden face. She wasn't in the habit of crying often; when she did, she did it wholeheartedly, just as she danced and swam and ran her ward and, for that matter, fell in love.

Hans was waiting for them. Smith greeted him with a quiet bark as Marius turned on the powerful deck light and slid into the little harbour. Hans's enormous hand steadied Tabitha as she jumped off the boat. ‘Not too bad, miss?' he asked anxiously. ‘I have food waiting.' He turned to speak to Marius who spoke to him low-voiced before he took Tabitha's arm, whistled to Smith and walked her over to the house. Hans had left the door open and they went through the hall quietly to the kitchen at its end. The light was bright here and Tabitha turned her head away from it sharply because she knew how
awful she must be looking—a useless precaution, because Marius stopped under the old-fashioned brass hanging lamp and turned her round to face him, a hand under her chin.

He stared down at her for several moments, his eyes hooded so that she had no idea what he was thinking. Unable to bear it, she muttered: ‘Oh, don't—please don't look at me. I'll go straight upstairs.'

He smiled a little. ‘Why do you set such store on a pretty face, Tabitha? Perhaps no one has ever told you that a pretty face isn't always a beautiful one, and you, my dear girl, are beautiful at this moment, red nose, puffed eyes, tear-stained cheeks notwithstanding. Now sit down—Hans will be here in a minute and we'll have supper together, the three of us, and don't mind him seeing you like this—he's your devoted slave already.'

He looked as though he was going to say something else, but he didn't, only kissed the top of her head and ruffled her already very ruffled hair.

The day, which had been so disastrous, ended with unexpected satisfaction, at least for Tabitha. Hans, beaming all over his broad, goodnatured face produced a magnificent supper which they ate at the kitchen table, decked with a very white cloth and deep blue pottery plates. They had soup first—
potage Parmentier,
which, Hans told them with some pride, he had made himself, and followed it with a great dish of little fried pancakes stuffed with prawns and oysters and tasting most delicately of cheese and white wine and Pernod. They were so delicious that when Hans got up from the table and returned with a chocolate soufflé Tabitha vowed she couldn't eat another morsel, whereupon he looked so dejected that she rapidly changed her mind and then had a second helping from sheer healthy greed. Marius had gone down the little crooked staircase to the cellar under the kitchen and brought up a bottle of claret, which had the pleasing effect of making her surroundings even more pleasant than they were, a circumstance heightened by her two companions, who, in some way she was too happy to bother about, contrived to make her feel that having supper with her at one o'clock in the morning was the one thing they liked doing most. Moreover, Marius had called her beautiful—a palpable lie, of course, but very soothing to hear after her miserable day.

Warm, sleepy and full of good food and excellent wine, she
thanked them both and wished them good night, to sleep the moment her head touched the pillow. She woke once in the night and decided that she would thank them again in the morning, for they had been very kind. She slept again even as she thought it.

T
ABITHA
wakened early and listened to the faint sounds of the little town stirring, and because it was already a beautiful day, she got up and dressed in pink denim slacks and a pink and white checked shirt, then went downstairs, intent on finding Hans and Marius so that she could thank them once more.

Hans was already in the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of coffee from a blue enamel pot of vast dimensions. He put it down, however, when he saw Tabitha and said: ‘Miss Tabitha, good day—you are soon, I make tea.'

Tabitha perched on the table. ‘Good morning, Hans. The coffee smells good, may I have a cup, Hans, please?'

He smiled widely. ‘Already so Dutch,' he chuckled, ‘that is good.' He handed her a blue mug which matched the pot. ‘You don't sleep?'

‘Yes, very well, thank you, only I woke early and I don't think I thanked you or Mr van Beek nearly enough for being so nice last night. I do thank you, Hans—you were like a fairy godmother…'

‘Would that by any chance make me the prince?' asked Marius from the door. She turned to look at him; he had been on the yacht, for he had a handful of tools in one hand and was wearing nothing more than a pair of oil-stained shorts. He saw her look and said mildly: ‘Well, perhaps not—I'm hardly dressed for the part, am I?' He smiled and held out a hand for the coffee Hans had poured. ‘You're up early, Tabitha, didn't you sleep?'

‘Very well. I was explaining to Hans—I wakened early and it seemed to me I hadn't thanked either of you enough for—for last night.'

She looked at him, lounging in a high-backed, painted chair a couple of feet from her, and her heart did a somersault because, despite the shorts and the oil stains, he looked very like a prince should. He stared back at her, a smile curving his mouth, and she said hastily, going pink under his look: ‘It was a great nuisance for you having to go back for me—in the dark too,' and stopped because his smile had broadened into a wide grin as Hans said: ‘Never worry about
the dark, miss. Mister Marius, he lived on the water from when he was a little boy—he sails it blindfold if he must—he knows every square metre.'

Tabitha digested this, then: ‘And you let us plan our trips just as though you didn't know your way about—you must have known all the places like the back of your hand.' She frowned, and opened her mouth again to speak her mind when he stopped her.

‘Why not, Tabby? Bill loves navigating and planning, even old Knotty, although he remembers it all quite well, enjoyed it, and I've enjoyed it as much as any of you, perhaps more.' He stretched hugely. ‘I don't know what's planned for today, but how about a run in the car before breakfast? Give me ten minutes.'

He was gone before she could reply and Hans took the mug from her hand and refilled it, remarking in his placid voice: ‘It will be good to drive now—later too hot.'

Tabitha sipped her coffee. ‘Hans,' she asked, ‘have you always lived in Veere?'

He nodded. ‘Thirty-five years, but for a year in Rotterdam. First I was chauffeur and house steward to old Mijnheer van Beek, and friend too for Mister Marius and his brother and sister—we had good times together. I teach them to drive, you understand? But this one, he is best of them. He travels much, but always he comes back to his home which he loves. He is a good man. You like him, Miss Tabitha?'

His question was asked without guile. Tabitha put down her mug.

‘Yes, Hans, I like him.' She didn't say any more because she could hear Marius coming down the stairs, and anyway there wasn't much more she could say. She got to her feet and stood waiting for him. He came through the door looking as though he had never held a tool in his life, let alone used it; he had on immaculate slacks, beautifully tailored and an open-necked shirt with a silk scarf tucked inside it. More of a prince than ever, thought Tabitha, wishing she looked more spectacular herself and then reversing the wish when he said idly: ‘You look nice, Tabby—you have the happy knack of wearing the right clothes at the right times.'

The car was just across the cobbles, close to the harbour's edge. As they got in Marius asked: ‘Shall we just wander—there are some delightful roads.' So they went straight along the shore of the lake to Vrouwenpolder and then turned off to weave a way through the narrow, badly surfaced country lanes running between the flat fields,
until they came to Domburg, larger than Veere but not nearly as picturesque, for it had a great many hotels and camping sites, but as Marius pointed out, that was inevitable as it was a popular seaside resort amongst the Dutch. From there the coast road was a good one; Marius followed it for several miles and turned inland again, short of Middelburg, going slowly through the quiet country. Afterwards Tabitha couldn't remember what they had talked about, only that she had enjoyed every moment of it. As they drew up opposite the house once more, Marius turned to look at her.

‘That dinner—will you come out tonight?'

She ignored her galloping pulse rate. ‘Thank you, I should like that—that is if it doesn't interfere with—with anything.' By anything she had meant Lilith and perhaps he had guessed that, for he said easily:

‘Why should it? About eight o'clock at the hotel, I think, don't you?' His smile held faint mockery. ‘Leave it to me, Tabby.'

The weather still held, and at breakfast it was decided that they should sail down the canal to Middelburg and Vlissingen and then round the coast and so back to the Veerse Meer from the west. In the excitement of planning this trip there was very little opportunity for much discussion about the previous evening's escapade, or the dinner party. What questions were asked Tabitha left Marius to answer, which he did with a casual good humour which robbed it of all drama, at the same time including her in the conversation with such adroitness that she seemed to be taking a far greater part in the talk than she actually was. As for the dinner party, the Raynards and Mr Bow had enjoyed themselves; the hotel was praised, as was the delicious food, and if rather less was said about their hostess and her daughter, no one saw fit to comment upon it. This led, naturally enough, to Marius observing that perhaps they wouldn't mind too much if he took Tabitha out to dinner that evening, a remark which earned the company's wholehearted approbation, and when Hans, who seemed to know everything going on in the house, came in with the post, remarking that if they were going out that evening they had better make a start on their day's outing or they wouldn't be back in time, everyone made haste to get down to the yacht.

Tabitha, helping Mr Bow as he slowly negotiated the cobbles, couldn't fail to see how much better the old man looked. He had become quite brown, so that his white whiskers looked even whiter and he looked ten years younger, despite the crutches. Bill Raynard
too had been revitalized to an astonishing extent. The thought of him returning to St Martin's in a few weeks' time filled Tabitha with unease—he had always been twice as energetic as anyone else; now it looked as though he would be doubling his operation lists and filling the beds faster than she could ever hope to get them made up; he was already beginning to talk with enthusiasm of what he intended to do as soon as he got back to work. She switched her thoughts away from the hospital; time enough to worry about her work when they got back. She heaved a sigh and choked on it when Mr Bow observed gently: ‘No sighing today, Tabitha—sighing is wasted breath.'

The day was a success; if it hadn't been for the fact that she was going out to dinner with Marius that evening, Tabitha would have wished it to last for ever. As it was, she felt her heart leap with excitement as they neared Veere, an excitement doused by the expectation of seeing Lilith or her stepmother on the quayside, but there was no sign of either of them—it seemed as though the day was going to end as perfectly as it had begun.

They strolled up to the Campveerse Toren just before eight o'clock and went up the curving staircase to the restaurant overlooking the water. They had a table in one of the windows and watched the boats coming in for the night while they drank their aperitifs and talked over their day. They were still talking about Chidlake and Veere now as they ate
ratatouille,
which Tabitha had never heard of, followed by roast duckling stuffed with prunes, and finally a dessert of fresh pineapple filled with a delicious concoction of almonds and bananas and whipped cream, lavishly awash with rum, and because Marius said it was a celebration, although he declined to say of what, they drank champagne.

It was while they were sitting over their coffee that Marius said:

‘Only a week left—how time flies when one is content.' He gave her a keen glance. ‘You are content, Tabitha?'

Tabitha filled their coffee cups for a second time. ‘Yes, very— I'm happy too.' Her pretty voice was warm with feeling, for she was happy, or almost; as happy as she would ever be with Lilith, smiling and triumphant, reminding her of a happiness she herself was never likely to have—but she had now, and she had had the whole day with him too. She said slowly:

‘St Martin's seems like a dream. I can't imagine myself going back there, making out diet sheets and putting up extensions,' she
sighed, and then, for fear he should pity her, said brightly: ‘But everyone feels like that after a holiday, don't they? Besides, there's still another week.' She looked out to the dark blue water of the lake. ‘Do you think this gorgeous weather will last?'

It was a red herring which he ignored, and that was a pity because she found it so much easier to talk about things and not themselves.

Marius said blandly: ‘You won't be putting up extensions for the rest of your life, you know.'

She deliberately misunderstood him. ‘Oh, but I couldn't do much else. I've worked on Orthopaedics for several years and I'm hopelessly out of the running with Medical or Surgery—I might manage theatre, I suppose.'

His voice was still bland. ‘Ah, yes, when the pretty Sue gets married.'

Which remark, Tabitha thought crossly, he could have better left unsaid. She saw herself in the successive years ahead, taking over from the pretty girls who got married. To rid herself of the unpleasant prospect she said vigorously: ‘I shall stay on in Men's Orthopaedic,' and then, not sure that he would choose to answer: ‘What are you going to do, Marius?'

Apparently he hadn't minded her question. ‘Bill won't be able to do a full day's work for a couple of weeks after we get back. I shall stay a couple of weeks—less, perhaps—then I have a short lecture tour and—er—affairs of my own to settle.'

Tabitha, made reckless by a little too much champagne, opened her mouth to enquire what affairs, but before she could utter he said smoothly:

‘No, don't ask, Tabby,' and was about to say more when he looked across the room and saw Lilith and Mrs Crawley and said instead: ‘Here are your family. Shall we ask them over for one last drink before we go?'

Tabitha gave him an empty stare. She said dully: ‘Yes, of course, it would complete the evening, wouldn't it? You should have invited them for dinner,' and Marius, his eyebrows lifted at her sudden rudeness, said silkily: ‘Yes, perhaps I should.'

It was half an hour before they got up to go and even then on the way down the staircase Marius paused, and with a brief murmured excuse went back up again, to reappear after a couple of minutes. Tabitha, studying his face, thought that behind his placid good looks there was quiet satisfaction. They walked back to the house, mak
ing conversation while Tabitha thought her own thoughts, knowing that he was thinking his too, and she fancied they were triumphant ones. She said her thank yous and good nights in the hall and went to her room where she went at once to the window without putting on the light. As she had known, with a certainty as strong as though he had told her himself, Marius had already left the house again and was walking briskly back to the hotel.

She slept late the next morning because she hadn't slept very much during the night. She got downstairs just as everyone was sitting down to breakfast and because of her unusual lateness had to put up with a good deal of mild teasing, which she answered in a lighthearted manner wholly at variance with her shadowed eyes, elaborating upon her evening out and even declaiming at some length on the pleasure of meeting Lilith and Mrs Crawley. It was only when she caught Marius's thoughtful eyes upon her that she realized that she was being far too talkative.

They spent the day sailing and in the afternoon the weather became overcast, and then suddenly the sky became pitch black and the storm broke over their heads. Tabitha, who didn't like thunder and was frightened of lightning, was surprised to discover that neither bothered her overmuch because everyone else in the party appeared to be enjoying themselves immensely, especially Marius, sitting at the tiller, singing some song about ‘Piet Hein'. The worst of the storm had blown over as they approached Veere; the sky was blue again and the sun shone once more. The little town looked delightful with its quaint roof tops glistening with the recent rain, and everything looked fresh and green.

They made their way through the crowded little harbour to their berth, past Jan's boat, but there was no sign of Lilith on board, nor was she by the harbour. Tabitha heaved a sigh of relief as she crossed the road with Mr Bow and Marius and went into the house. There was a note on the side table in the hall. Tabitha saw that it was in Lilith's handwriting as Marius picked it up and without reading it, put it in his pocket and led everyone into the sitting room where there was an instant and lighthearted discussion as to how they should amuse themselves that evening, which the two girls cut short with the positive assertion that they refused to discuss anything until they had bathed and changed.

Half an hour later Tabitha was on her way downstairs again, her hair piled in its coils and rolls, and wearing a blue and white pat
terned dress and flat-heeled blue sandals on her feet. She made no noise at all on the stairs and none on the thickpiled hall carpet. The door of the sitting room was half open, as she neared it she couldn't fail to hear Marius say, his voice urgent: